


(falling) with you

by moth_writes



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: (sort of), Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, meet ugly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:42:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28230072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moth_writes/pseuds/moth_writes
Summary: Snowflake exchange gift for seducing-a-vampire!Simon Snow makes the mistake of walking around campus with an open cup. He bumps into-literally-Baz Pitch.What results is (expected) anybody's guess.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 4
Kudos: 64
Collections: Secret Snowflake 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [seducing_a_vampire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/seducing_a_vampire/gifts).



> Snowflake Exchange for seducing-a-vampire (Discord: seducingavampire#6631)! I hope you like it <3!!
> 
> The prompts I used: meet ugly, uni au, coffeeshop (this said au but i put their date there instead), getting together/first kiss, anything involving a library (brief, but vital to the fic)

SIMON

I’m going to be late for class.

My alarm didn’t go off this morning, and the bakery I usually go to for breakfast was out of scones. I had to settle on a chocolate pastry, and it’s nowhere near as good. (It’s not bad, of course. Nothing here is.)(It’s just that it isn’t a sour cherry scone, and that’s what I really want.)

I inhale it anyway, because food is food. I sip my hot chocolate and it burns my tongue.

I drink enough it won’t overflow and take the lid off. It’s probably a bad idea-I’m clumsy at the best of times-but I don’t care right now. My tongue is already a little burned, and I want to drink my hot chocolate without hurting myself more.

I’m about to walk into my first class when I remember I left my books at the school library yesterday. 

The books I need for this class. I can’t even sit in the back and pretend I have it, either, because there’s only nine people in this class and the professor treats us like sixth-formers and makes us show her them every class.

I check my watch and groan. I’m already late to class, I guess it doesn’t really matter.

I’m so tempted to just skip today. Penny’s in that class, she can give me the notes later.

But also, Penny’s in this class and she’d chew me out for missing again.

Christ, I’ve only been in uni for two months and it’s already kicking my arse.

Fuck it, I decide. I’ll just go to the library, get my books, and revise for a bit. I can probably sneak a nap that way, too.

…

BAZ  
  


I close my last book and lean back.

Dev and Niall look at me with a mixture of jealousy and exhaustion. I stretch in my seat and sigh, closing my eyes for a moment and gathering myself.

I’ve been in the library for-I check the time on my phone-almost six hours, since it opened. I have a midterm in my econ class tomorrow, and the last week has been a frantic revision and exhaustion.

“Alright, lads,” I say as I gather textbooks and pens. I prefer doing it by hand, but Dev glares at me from behind the screen of his laptop and Niall gives me a vague gesture that could be either a thumbs up or a _fuck you_.

“Order something, yeah?” Dev says and he sounds rough. Like he hasn’t spoken in hours, or like he spent twenty minutes screaming. (He did, both. We could hear when he ‘went to the bathroom’-he actually stood outside the library and screamed.)(It’s his own fault. Who _chooses_ to be a math major?)

“Text me when you’re about to leave,” I tell him and Niall, “and I’ll order something. A feast, on my father.”

They both cheer weakly. I stand, stuffing my books haphazardly into my bag. Usually I care more than this, but usually I haven’t been in a library staring at too-small text since five in the morning.

I hope I don’t see anyone I know. I know from experience my hair is a horrible, _horrible_ mess and the bags under my eyes are dark enough to look like I smeared charcoal over my face. My clothes are wrinkled, too, and I don’t usually let that happen no matter how busy I get. I bought an iron for a reason, after all.

I’ll admit what happens might be partially my fault. I wasn’t paying attention, too busy trying to fit my last textbook into my bag, and I collided with someone.

I register the heat before anything else. It’s all down my front, soaking my coat and jeans and dripping into my open bag. 

I freeze, then exhale slowly.

When I look down, my textbook is soaked with the rest of me.

I look up into bright blue eyes and put on my most venomous expression.

  
  


SIMON

I knew leaving the lid off was a bad idea, and now I’m utterly fucked.

I meet his eyes-he’s taller than I am, but only by a little-and I vaguely recognize him. I think we had a class together for a couple days before I realized my schedule was messed up and switched out, and he got into four separate debates (arguments?) with the professor in those two days. He looks more unkempt than I ever saw him in class, though-his shirt's rumpled even before I spilled my drink on him, and his hair is frizzing out in all directions. I'm fairly sure only half of it is pulled back into a ponytail, and the rest is just sort of there. The dark circles under his eyes don't help either.

I rack my memory until a name comes up, then-”Baz Pitch?”

“Snow,” he sneers and he looks like he just ate something sour or stepped in dog shit. I make myself calm down a bit-I had a bit of an anger problem when I was younger, but I’ve been working on it-and reach for the napkins I always carry.

I offer them to Baz, but he sneers harder. I didn’t think that was possible, but it’s like there’s a dial in him and he just cranked it up to eleven.

“This textbook,” he says slowly, “cost _five hundred pounds_. And your numpty arse just went and soaked it.”

I freeze. I got all of my textbooks second hand-the Mage, my alumni sponsor, is the Dean of Students and he gave me some of the copies that had been left over-and I had no idea they cost that much.

“Uh,” I stutter. “I don’t have that much, but I can give you-” I reach for my wallet-”about twenty pounds and a cough drop?” I offer. He stares, and I think I’ve confused him.

“No. You know what? I don’t care. I just don’t give a fuck anymore.” I watch him deflate, shoulder slumping as he rubs one temple like he has a headache. “I’ve been revising since five ‘o _fucking_ clock, I just want a hot bath and sleep.”

“I have a bathtub,” I offer before I think better of it. Baz looks at me with a raised eyebrow and I realize what that sounds like, so I hurry to add an explanation. “Not like that! I mean, you wanted a hot bath, right? Most of the dorms don’t have bathtubs, but I do, so if you want to use it…” I trail off and gesture at the mess of hot chocolate over him. “Least I could do, right? For soaking your textbook, I mean.”

Baz stares at me and I wait. I can’t afford to pay for his textbook, so right now I’m hoping he’ll take the bath so I can at least stop feeling guilty about it.

“Fuck it,” he says and I almost jump. “Fine. Lead the way, Snow.”

I sigh in relief and do.

  
  


BAZ  
  


I’m going insane.

First I’ve decided not to make him pay for my textbook, even though I know that means I have to replace it myself, and now I’m going to his dorm for a bloody _bath_.

I spent the last of my sense hours ago, though, and I’m too fucking tired to care.

It doesn’t help that I’ve been sort of infatuated with Snow since he walked into my business class, sat down next to me, and spilled crumbs all over the desk.

I have a very specific type, and Snow hits every mark. I knew I was fucked when I saw the freckles in combination with the curls and blue eyes.

I follow Snow across campus and into the dorm house three down from mine. I’m half jealous-why does he get a bathtub and not me?-and half excited. First year students aren’t allowed to live off campus, and none of Fiona and I’s bargaining with the staff worked.

Snow’s room is surprisingly neat. It has the same layout as mine, down to the mini kitchen in the corner. I notice Snow’s is filled with books and appliances, and I wonder if he actually uses it. Dev and Niall and I eat the cafes on campus with our meal cards usually; the only thing that’s been cooked in our kitchen in ramen noodles, burned eggs, and sandwiches.

I wait next to the tiny couch. (Honestly, it’s more like a chair than a couch, but I digress.)

Snow takes my bag and sets in on the low coffee table. “Bathroom’s through there.” He motions to the middle door on the far wall. “Take as long as you want. I’ll get you some of my clothes to wear since yours are all...yeah.”

I nod and leave my bag on the table. I left my laptop in my dorm, thankfully, and I don’t care much about anything in there. 

“Okay,” I say. I hesitate, then add “Thank you, Snow.”

He waves it away. “Don’t. Least I could do, really, since I spilled my coco on you. I’ll leave the clothes in front of the door-we’re about the same size, right?”

I nod and he looks relieved. I didn’t even consider that-I don’t have any of my own clothes with me.

“Or,” I say slowly, “I can send you to pick up some of mine. I’m two houses down.”

“Yeah, alright,” he says. “Probably for the best, I need to do laundry and most of my clean stuff is stained and full of holes. I don’t think your posh arse could handle it,” he jokes and freezes. 

I raise an eyebrow. Well, then. I can do quite a bit with this, I think. “Of course not,” I tell him as seriously as I can with my most condescending expression. “I only wear handcrafted, handspun shirts made by specialists in Brazil. My trousers are six thousand thread count and woven by little elves.”

He blinks. I wait.

“Oh!” he blurts. “That was a joke. I thought you were serious up until the little elves bit.”

I snort and a grin spreads on his face. “No, Snow. I got these from Harrods.”

“Right,” he says and pauses. “I didn’t think trousers had a thread count.”

“Not that I’m aware of.”

“Okay,” he tells me. “I need your keys and your dorm number and I’ll grab you some clothes. Anything in particular?”

I hum. “No. I need a shirt, trousers, pants. My room is the one on the left side of the doorway with the single bed. If you open the door and the beds are pushed together, that’s my cousin and his boyfriend’s room-stay out of there.”

“Sure,” he says and he doesn’t seem fazed by my little test. I always bring up Dev and Niall’s relationship around (presumed) straight boys to see they’re reaction, and Snow has passed.

I dig my keys out of my pocket and hand them to him. “Room 61, house 11.”

“I’ll be right back,” he says and leaves.

I wait until the door clicks closed. 

Fiona would say I’m mad for trusting him. _Can’t trust him, Basil. He’s the Mage’s pawn-could be spying on you! And what were you doing, giving him your keys? He could make off with something! Something precious!_

I ignore her voice in my head. I don’t think Snow’s a spy for the Mage, and he’s too honorable to steal from me. And if I misjudged and he does, well-he’s the only person to visit my dorm in months, I’d know immediately.

I open the door on the left first. It’s full of books and the covers on the bed are purple. It’s too neat to fit my impression of Snow, so I assume it’s his roommate’s and leave.

The next door is the bathroom. I’ll get there in a moment, but first I open the door to the far right.

It’s messier. That fits what I think Snow would be like, though to a far lesser degree. I take two steps in and turn slowly. Clothes are piled on a tipped-over basket, and the bed’s unmade, but it’s no worse than Dev and Niall’s room.

I back out of the room, lingering on the tattered band posters hanging on the walls. Snow has shit taste in music, of course-the only acceptable one I can see is a Queen poster that’s half shreds and looks about twenty years old.

The bathroom, at least, is clean. Almost spotless, or as much as a dorm bathroom can get.

I lock the door behind me and start the water running.

  
  


SIMON

I lock the door behind me as I leave.

Baz’s dorm looks as I expected. Neat and organized, with posters for bands I’ve never heard of on the walls.

He has more books than I thought anyone would bring to uni. I mean, Penny brought a lot, but that’s just who Penny is.

And the pictures. There were so many, all over the walls. With a woman who looks like him, most often, with a white stripe in her hair. There’s a bunch of children, too-at least four different ones that I could find.

I might have spent too long looking at pictures. I hope Baz doesn’t mind, but he won’t know so I don’t care much.

I get back to my dorm as quick as I can. It’s cold out, and I didn’t bring my coat.

I sneeze and wipe my nose. I think, idly, that Baz would probably sneer at me for it.

When I get to my dorm, the main room’s empty and the light is on in the bathroom. I drop Baz’s clothes on the table next to his bag. The room’s gone a little humid, the way it always does when one of us takes a hot bath and the steam drifts around the door. 

I collapse onto the couch and ignore the way it creaks under me. I got it for ten pounds from the thrift shop down the road from Penny’s parents house, and she refuses to sit on it. Says it’ll collapse under her. I know it won’t, but I don’t try to argue any more.

I check the time and groan. I’ve officially missed my class. And I forget my books at the library again.

I text Penny quickly and explain the situation. She sends a _Simon_ that I read in her ‘ _I expected this and I’m not angry, just disappointed_ ’ voice, which I think is her worst tone. She says she’ll get my books, but lunch is on me today.

That’s fine. I got more tips at the bakery I work at than usual last week, and I can afford it.

I lean back and tip my head up. I’ll just have to wait for Baz to get done. I only have two classes today, and I missed the first. My next isn’t until three, and it’s eleven now.

I wonder what Baz likes. I can order lunch for all of us, as a sorry of sorts. I decide to just ask.

  
  


BAZ  
  


Snow knocks on the door.

I’m almost melted into his tub. He’ll have to scrape me off the bottom of it later. I even found some bath salts-rose scented, not my usual, but fine all the same.

“What?” I ask. I speak a little louder, but I don’t yell. I’m already using his bath, that’s more than strange. If I want to have any chance at all with this boy…

“What kind of food do you eat?” he asks. “I mean, is there anything you don’t eat? Like meat or gluten or something.”

“I can’t have too much iron,” I say. I have a blood disorder that makes me hold onto too much. I have to give blood every few months to keep my iron levels down, or I get too dizzy to do anything. “So no red meat. Otherwise anything.”

“Okay,” he shouts back. “I left your clothes outside the door.” I’m relieved-usually people ask for an explanation and I have to give them my full medical history and a textbook. 

It doesn’t occur to me to ask why he needs to know this until after he’s gone. I sigh and decide it’s time to get out.

My fingers were starting to prune anyway.

…

SIMON

I order curry from the hole-in-the-wall down the street. Penny and I get food from there all the time, and it’s our go-to. It’s also the only place we’ve found within a five mile radius that will deliver to campus, so we would probably still order from there if the food tasted like dirt.

It doesn’t, though. The food’s really good.

I hope Baz likes curry. I order his mild just in case, along with my usual and Penny’s favorite.

The door creaks open a bit and I turn the other way. I don’t want to make him uncomfortable. The lock clicks again a moment later and I think it’s safe to go back to the couch.

I try to pick up a bit before Penny gets here. It’s just some laundry and ramen wrappers-she neat, and I’ve had the habit of picking up after myself since I was in homes. Anything you couldn’t grab immediately you left behind, and some of them got real nasty about mess.

  
  


I grab my laptop from my room. We don’t have a telly, but we have Netflix-Agatha’s parents pay for a subscription and she lets us use her profile.

I wish, briefly, that she hadn’t left for America. She’s studying vet sciences, and we don’t talk as much as we used to between school and the time difference.

We dated, once. It didn’t last very long-we’re much better as friends.

Baz leaves the bathroom in a rush of steam. He doesn’t seem uncomfortable-except for the usual damp-skin-in-jean uncomfortable-so I think I picked the right clothes.

He looks well fit. I mean, he did even when he had hot chocolate all over him, but. More now, I think.

I hope my face isn’t red. I avoid his face just in case.

  
  


BAZ

I think Snow’s blushing.

Well. If all I had to do to get a boy, and this boy specifically, to notice me-I would’ve run into him while he was holding drinks sooner.

I am still entirely inept at flirting, however. I don’t have the first clue on how to start. 

I decide to just see where this goes. I have a reputation to keep, so I can’t start being nice to him out of nowhere. Especially after he spilled hot chocolate on my expensive as fuck textbook.

He did let me use his bath, though. And I haven’t gotten one in months.

“Uh…” Snow says. “You can have the couch. I’ll sit in the kitchen.”

“Honestly, Snow,” I say. I don’t pour as much venom into my words as I usually would. I’m too relaxed right now. “This is _not_ a couch. This is _barely_ a chair.”

“It’s chair enough,” he says stubbornly. I almost roll my eyes. I’m about to give up on being nice and bully him into buying an actual couch when the door opens and Bunce walks in.

“Pitch,” she says with a short nod to me. She turns to Snow. “Simon, what happened? Your texts weren’t very clear.” She pauses, glances at me, then whispers “Are you in trouble?”

“I don’t think so,” I say back. “I spilled hot chocolate on his textbook. His _five hundred pound_ textbook.”

“Shit,” she says. Penny almost never swears-says it’s because of her siblings. Good influence, and all. “Do you have to pay him back?”

“No, I won him over with a bath and lunch.”

“Simon, be serious.”

“I am. He was revising for a long time, and he just kind of...accepted it?”

“I can hear you,” Baz says conversationally. Penny and I freeze, and I meet her wide eyes.

“Uh…” I say. “Sorry.”

Baz hums and doesn’t say anything. Penny gives me a look _I take to mean don’t mess this up, neither of us can afford to pay if he changes his mind._

I return it with a look I hope says _I know and I’m doing all I can, Penny. I only have about twenty pounds and half a tissue._

My phone chimes. Food’s here.

I open the door and pick the bag up. They always leave it on the doorstep and text me after, I don’t know why. Maybe they’re really busy or something.

“Okay,” I say, and turn to face them. The food smells amazing, and I grin. “Baz, this is the best curry I’ve ever had. You’re in for something good.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Well, we’ll see, won’t we Snow?”

…

PENELOPE  
  


This is so weird.

I know Basil, sort of. We share a few classes, since our majors are similar-he’s business and I’m politics, and we both take a classical literature course for fun-and we talk sometimes. It’s always perfunctory, though, for projects and the like. Most of the time I hear him speak he’s arguing with the professors.

And now he’s sitting on my chair (Simon insists it’s a couch, but it really, _really_ isn’t), eating curry and with his hair wet.

Nicks and Slick, I can’t believe Simon won him over with a bath and lunch. These textbooks are ridiculous, and the only reason I’m not completely broke right now is because my parents work on campus and they gave me some. (They would’ve given Simon books too, but he already had them from Mage.)(Aside from his reforms, that’s the only part of Mage I don’t dislike. He takes care of Simon, sometimes. Rarely, and too late, but help is help.)

I scrape up the last bit of rice and push the dish aside. I’m sitting on the floor at the coffee table-it’s not unfamiliar, I do most of my studying here in the post-library-closing hours.

I lean back on my hands and look at Basil. He’s sitting with his legs tucked under him, eating with his hand over his mouth and watching Simon.

I sigh. I knew that would happen-Simon’s got a reputation of being clumsy, and he isn’t bad looking. When you add to that the ‘mystery’ of his alumni sponsorship...well. Almost everyone I bring over-which is limited to project partners and study buddies now that Micah and I broke up and Agatha went to America-looks at Simon that way at least once.

Simon, who finished inhaling his food ages ago, putters around the kitchenette a bit. He’s a culinary arts major, and our kitchen is filled with his tools and such. I watch him reorganize the fancy knife set I got him last Christmas.

Baz sets aside his dish and stands, stretching. It’s still half full.

“I should go,” he says and yawns. “I told Dev and Niall I’d be at the dorms when they finished.”

“Okay,” Simon replies. I watch him shift around nervously, glancing at and away from Baz quickly.

Baz raises an eyebrow. It’s somehow scornful and at the same time softer than I’ve ever seen him, and the gears in my head start turning.

That would explain _so_ much.

SIMON

I look at Baz, then away again.

I don’t want to say it out loud. It seems rude somehow, just blurting out _hey are you going to change your mind about paying for the textbook because I need to know now so I can figure out how to get my ex-girlfriend’s parents to give me a loan if you are._

I look at my newly-organized set of knives and ignore my heart pounding in my chest. My palms are sweating too, and for some reason I don’t think it’s only about the textbook shit.

“Don’t worry, Snow,” Baz drawls and there’s a light in his eyes-amusement? Annoyance? “I’m not going to call you a week from now and demand you pay me back.”

“You could still call me,” I blurt. I wince, because that was clumsy. I blame my inexperience. (I’ve only known I like guys too for about two months now.)(And I’ve never flirted or dated anyone except Agatha.) “I mean. For non-school or textbook related reasons.”

I curse myself, and I’m this close to taking it all back, pushing him out the door, and going to live with Agatha in California when Baz smiles. I meet his eyes, and I’m almost complete;y sure what I see is amusement now.

Is he laughing at me?

BAZ

Is Simon Snow trying to ask me out?

I hope so. My heart is pounding in my chest. I try to look composed and interested, but the way Snow tenses makes me think maybe I’ve missed the mark.

I try to relax a little. I meet his eyes and smile. “Are you trying to ask me out, Snow?” I say teasingly, and it’s more daring than I’ve ever been.

My face is burning. I’m so glad my skin is dark enough to hide it, or my reputation would have been ruined the first time I saw Simon Snow. (He’s _exactly_ my type, as I’ve said, and the infatuation I thought would only last a week or so has only grown.)(That doesn’t seem so bad now, though. Not if he feels the same.)

“Do you want me to?” Snow stutters. (It’s adorable.)(I ignore the way it makes my heart trip.)

“Yes,” I say with more confidence than I feel. I grab a spare pen from the counter and hold out my hand. Snow blinks at me. “Your hand, Snow.”

His mouth forms a silent _oh_ and he puts his hand in mine. It’s warm, so warm. I gather that all of him is, based on the few times we’ve touched.

I write my mobile number in neat, even numbers across the back of his hand. He watches me, and I’m almost too aware of his gaze.

“Well then, Snow,” I say. I try to sound haughty-but-flirty, the way my aunt does. I decide immediately to never do that again-I just sound haughty. “I must leave you. Call me sometime.”

I step past him and turn, backing smoothly out the door with a wink. He sputters, spitting something, and the last glimpse I get before the door closes is his red, red face.

I make it two houses down before I stop. My hands are shaking-I push them into my pockets and take a deep breath.

Crowley. I can’t believe I just did that. 

I gave a boy my number. I gave _Simon Snow_ my number. And I told him to call me.

And I fucking _winked_.

I step backwards and lean against a bare brick wall. It’s cold and I don’t have a coat, though, and I’m freezing.

I press a hand over my eyes and try to breathe. I’ve never asked anyone out before-I ignore the little voice in my head saying I didn’t actually ask him out-and especially not Simon fucking Snow.

I let myself have a moment before I check the time. It’s almost one in the afternoon, and there’s a dozen texts from Dev and Niall and a couple missed calls. I pocket my phone and sigh. I’ll just have to deal with them when I get to my room. 

I don’t really care. I feel light and shaky, like I’m drunk on Snow’s presence. 

I don’t think this infatuation is going away anytime soon.

I tap on Fiona’s contact and start typing.


	2. Chapter 2

SIMON

I text Baz for the first time a few hours after he leaves.

It’s just a short, simple message:  _ Hey, this is Simon _ .

He doesn’t reply. It doesn’t change from delivered to read though, so he’s probably asleep-he did say he’d been studying since the library opened, and that’s really early. (Even Penny doesn’t study that much.)(Some of the time. When it’s not exam season, anyway.)

I’m sat cross-legged on my bed, leaning against the wall. I pull my blanket over my lap and tap my fingertips along my phone screen.

I don’t spend much time here unless I’m asleep, and the bare walls of my room show it. I usually prefer to be around people-Penny mostly, since she can talk for hours and doesn’t try to make me have a conversation with her. Sometimes I just want to hear people talk without saying anything.

My old therapist would say it’s because of my childhood. I think the chances are equal that she’s right and that it’s just the way I am.

I don’t think about that. I think about Baz instead.

He was so fucking smooth earlier. Flirty. I wonder how many people he’s flirted with?

I look at my hand, where his number’s written across my skin. I rub at it with my thumb a bit, and it smears but doesn’t come off. I have it memorized and in my phone already though, so it’s fine.

I sigh and get my laptop from my nightstand. I might as well work on homework while I’m here.

…

It’s dark out when Baz texts me back.

I’m still sitting in my bed with my laptop in my lap, although I’m watching Netflix instead of doing any work. Dozing off, too, and the noise my phone makes startles me.

I check it, and it’s from Baz. Perfect punctuation and spelling-I thought he would text like that, the posh arse. Hello, Simon. I fell asleep.

I wait, and when no dots come up I type out  _ what are you doing? _ quickly and hit send. I don’t bother with capitalization or punctuation, and I only make sure there’s no typos because we just met and despite Penny’s opinion, I do actually care what other people think of me. At first, anyway, while I decide if they’re a friend or not.

I think Baz is a friend. Maybe not. 

I want him to be more than a friend. Maybe. I don’t know.

I know he’s well fit. He plays with the football team sometimes-I go to their practices when I have nothing else to do, or when I’m putting off doing something-and he’s graceful as fuck. He’s all legs, too. And his face is interesting.

That’s the best way I can phrase it, I think. I watch the little dots appear on my screen while I think. He’s handsome, sure, but in like a vampire way. I’ve never seen such a sharp widow’s peak, and his nose is a little crooked towards the bottom. 

245-543-5343 (5:42): I just woke up. Dev and Niall are eating, and I’ve given up on revising for tonight.

245-543-5343 (5:43): What about you, Simon Snow?

I smile. I can almost hear him say it, with that sarcastic drawl and raised eyebrow. I add him as a contact and save it as Posh Vampire Prat.

SIMON (5:46): watching netflix and pretending i dont have hw

Posh Vampire Prat (5:47): Alas is the life of a uni student.

SIMON (5:48): did u actually use alas

SIMON (5:48): didnt you just wake up

SIMON (5:48): u and penny would be friends

SIMON (5:48): or like. murder each other

Posh Vampire Prat (5:50): Not afraid to spam text, are we?

Posh Vampire Prat (5:50): I’ve met Bunce. She’s brilliant. I’m fairly certain she’s gotten into more arguments with the professors than I have. 

Posh Vampire Prat (5:51): If you tell her I said that I’ll kill you myself.

SIMON (5:53): got it. I wont rat u out

SIMON (5:53): she is brilliant tho. shes my best friend

I see it change to read and the dots pop up, but it takes a long time for Baz to send anything. I bite at my nails. Did talking about Penny scare him off? I hope he doesn’t think I’m dating her.

He asks what I was watching. I tell him, and it turns out he’s seen it too, so we talk about that, and then other things, on and on until I can’t keep my eyes open anymore and I fall asleep talking to him.

When I wake up there’s one last text from him, dated a little while after I fell asleep.  _ Night, Simon Snow. Sleep well _ .

  
  


BAZ

I almost wonder if the last text I sent was too much, but I wake up to a text from him.  _ Mornin baz! did u sleep well? _

I smile as I type out a reply.

I spend all day texting him between classes and revising.

Crowley, I’m living a charmed life.

…

SIMON

We keep texting for weeks before we call for the first time. 

It’s late in the afternoon, and I ask before I call him. We talk for hours and hours, and I think that’s what started the shift in my mind from friends-that-could-be-more to i-want-to-date-you-friends.

  
  


BAZ   
  


How long is it they say a crush has to last before it’s love?

I think I’m past that point. 

I think I’m in love with Simon Snow.

And I think he feels the same.

…

SIMON

We go on our first date almost a full month later. 

The streets are covered in grey slush when I pick him up. (Or, when I walk to his dorm.)(He’s driving. I don’t have a car.)

“Simon,” he says when he opens the door. It took weeks to get him to call me that, and he still usually calls me Snow. I grin, then hand him the box I’d been hiding behind my back.

It’s nothing fancy, just some of the chocolate he mentioned he liked a couple weeks ago. He takes it and looks at me like I just gave him the world. 

I knew it already, but I’m pretty sure I’m falling in love with him.

  
  


BAZ

He got me chocolate, and he’s standing on my doorstep looking at me with the most earnest expression and the brightest grin.

Yes, I think, I am definitely falling for this thoughtful, reckless idiot.

Based on the way he’s looking at me, though, I don’t think that will be a problem.

I want to kiss him. I have since I saw him, but the way he looks right now, and with the weight of the box in my hand, the urge is more pressing than ever.

  
  


SIMON

“Ready?” I ask and hold out my hand. Baz regards it, then slips the chocolate into his pocket-I almost protest that, because it was damn expensive for so little and it’s going to melt-but then Baz takes my hand and flashes me a crooked, toothy smile and my breath leaves me in a rush.

He steps down next to me and doesn’t let go of my hand. I look at him, and he looks back, and I’m almost dizzy with feeling.

Being with Agatha never felt like this, I think. We were always more like friends who kissed occasionally than anything romantic.

I banish Agatha from my mind. I should be thinking about Baz on our date.

It’s not hard, as it turns out. He leads me to his car, and we keep up a steady conversation while he drives. He’s all I can think about. 

I hope he likes what I have planned. 

…

I give Baz the directions as we go.

He wanted me to tell him when we left, but I insisted it would ruin the surprise. He’d sighed and pretended to be put out, but he wasn’t very good at hiding how pleased he was.

We get there almost half an hour early and we have to wait in the car, but I don’t think either of us are too bothered by it. We sit in the car and argue over music, and soon enough it’s open.

I make Baz close his eyes as I lead him in. He knows we’re at a cafe, but he doesn’t know why-it’s off campus, so we don’t go here often. 

He complains about keeping his eyes closed the whole time-in between jokes about my nefarious plans to off him-but he’s smiling so I don’t think he minds. 

I let him look when we get in, and his eyes go wide. I look around too, and I’m suddenly very glad I found the flier for this. I drop Baz’s hands and lead him to the register.

It’s a post-holiday celebration of sorts, I think. The flier wasn’t very clear, but it promised hot chocolate and sweets for free with tickets-I take them from my pocket and hand them to the cashier-and there’s a huge sale for almost everything on the bookstore half of the shop.

There’s lights strung up and music playing low, and Baz is looking at me like I’ve...I don’t know, just gave him something odd-but something odd that he really wanted, I think. I nod towards a quiet corner and we go, with Baz staring at me from the corner of his eye the whole time. (I’m looking at him too, but I think mine is more nervousness than whatever he’s thinking)

“Baz,” I say. “So. What do you think?” I’m nervous, and I think he can hear it in my voice. I push my hands into my pockets and look at my shoes, then at his face.

“I think,” he tells me, “I would like very much to kiss you right now.”

I blink. I mean, I want to kiss him too, but I haven’t even done anything yet. I tell him so and he laughs, long and soft. 

“I’ve never been on a date before,” he says after a moment. It sounds like a confession. I take his hand and thankfully he doesn’t comment on my sweaty palms.

“Well then,” I tell him, trying to put as much of the light inside my chest into my voice as possible, “let’s do this, love.”

(I think the pet name catches him off guard. I think he likes it, though.)(His cheeks flush hard enough I can see it clearly, and his hand closes tight around my fingers.)

We go, and it’s the best date I’ve ever had, even with all the books.

…

Baz walks me to the door when we get to my dorm.

It’s nice, date-like. I’m much less nervous now-watching him try to stay graceful and composed while in a bookstore with everything half off helped that. 

I paid for his books. He didn’t want me too, but I took his stack to the cashier when he went to the bathroom. It cost quite a bit, but I had enough saved up it was fine.

“So,” I say.

“Simon,” he says. 

“I think this is the part where we’re supposed to kiss.”

“Do you want to?”

“ _ Yes _ ,” I tell him and the vehemence in it surprises me. 

  
  


BAZ   
  


I want to kiss him.

And he wants to kiss me.

Why aren’t we?

I’m too nervous to lean in.

This is my first kiss.

“Simon,” I say. He looks at me, and his eyes are so, so  _ blue _ . I watch them spark, and the smile that turns the corners of his mouth up feels like a sword through my chest.

“I think this is the part where we’re supposed to kiss,” he tells me, and I feel the words like stones in my chest. I want that.

Does he, though? I ask, and his response is so sure I almost swoon.

I’m almost sure I’m already swooning. This all feels so unreal.

“Wait,” he blurts and I look at him. “Do...do you want to come in? Tea?” he asks, and it sounds odd. Desperate. Like he wants me to stay.

I’m definitely swooning now. 

Nervous, too. I swallow butterflies and follow Simon inside.

  
  


SIMON

Thankfully Penny isn’t home. I don’t think I could do this with an audience.

I lead Baz into my bedroom, and I’m sure my face is bright red. I don’t intend to  _ do  _ anything, but. Bedrooms have implications, don’t they? (Penny would say that’s harmful thinking, and the only thing bedrooms implicate is sleep. Then she’d give me the consent talk again-and I know it’s important, but I’ve heard it so many times I could recite it sleeping.)

We sit on my bed facing each other. I fold one leg under me and put my other foot on the floor, and he sits cross-legged with his hands in his lap. I reach out and he knots our fingers together again.

We’ve been doing a lot of hand holding, I think briefly. It’s nice. Really nice.

“Hi,” I say. He smiles, small and genuine.

“Hi,” Baz replies quietly. It’s the least-arrogant? posh?-I’ve ever heard him and I think I love it.

“So,” I tell him. “I’m a terrible boyfriend. Absolutely horrible, actually.”

He laughs. “Okay, Snow. I’ll take your word for it.”

I give him a mock-stern look that I’m sure he sees right through. “Simon.”

  
  
“Simon,” he amends. He’s grinning now, crooked and toothy.

“I want to be your terrible boyfriend,” I say. 

“Then do it,” Baz challenges. “Be my terrible boyfriend, Sn-Simon. I don’t think you’ll be bad at it at all.”

I laugh, and so does he, and the lightness in my chest explodes. I lean in and our lips meet. It's soft, and his breath is in my mouth, and my head is spinning.

This is the best kiss I've ever had.

It's _perfect,_ all of this. 

  
  


BAZ

I was wrong before.

  
_ Now  _ I’m living a charmed life.

**Author's Note:**

> Started as a fluffy meet ugly normal au, then I had a breakdown and wrote about baths. (My house doesn't have a bathtub :() Ended with more fluff. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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